Expect Disaster
by expect.extreme.measures
Summary: <html><head></head>AU, at camp U.M. you are an Axis or an Allie, the point of the summer, to win the war.  Alfred has no idea what he signed up for :P  Main pairings, USUK, GerIta, RoChu,and Franada, with many other flavors mixed in. Enjoy!</html>
1. Mr and Mrs Jones two little problems

**AN: So this is the first APH fic I'm posting. It's an idea me and a friend came up with on chat. I'm sort of wondering if she'll find this or not, it's sort of a challenge for her internet obsessed mind XD Anyway, enjoy!**

It was a tradition in the Jones family to send their two boys to camp for the summer. It didn't matter what sort of camp it was, or what the cost, getting their sons out of the house was Mr. and Mrs. Jones' top priority. This year was no exception.

Alfred was not pleased as he looked over the brightly colored pamphlet, advertising this summer's hell in bold letters. Camp U.M. Was plastered on every page, leaving little room for any other information on what this camp actually entailed. The camps his parents chose usually were like this. The first one to catch their eye, so the one with the most garish website or newsletter. He had at least hoped it would be something creative this year. When he was thirteen Alfred had spent the vacation spelunking in Minnesota. A similar experience wouldn't be so bad.

But no, Camp U.M. Stated plain as day, "the classic summer camp experience that will create memories for a lifetime." Personally he was pretty sure these memories would not be good ones. Last year's camp had promised the same, and he did remember with astonishing clarity their councilor getting mauled by a black bear. Obviously the man had never heard that it was a bad idea to play with bear cubs.

And Camp U.M.? Who named a camp um? It seemed very indecisive to him. Of course, U.M. probably stood for something, Alfred just had no idea what. Maybe someone there would know. This fabled camp of misery was located in a miserable west coast state known as Washington. From what he had heard everyone in Washington had either turned amphibious from all the rain, or were major hipsters, never to be seen without a joint.

"Do we really have to spend the whole summer at this place?" Alfred complained from the backseat of the car as he watched buckets of rain blur the view through his window.

"Now son, your Mother and I deserve tog get you boys out of our hair once and a while." his father reprimanded, his voice ever stern. Alfred groaned. His brother, Mattie, didn't seem nearly as down. Matthew actually enjoyed their summer 'adventures'. His twin was currently clutching that insufferable stuffed bear to his chest. It had been given to him by their very much dead uncle who had won it in a game of poker against an eight year old. During the man's lifetime he had had few virtues. Mattie really needed a haircut. And new glasses. The younger twin just needed to try a bit harder to look more like him, Alfred thought conclusively, not considering the fact that the only reason Mattie was growing his hair out was to look less like his brother.

Alfred was becoming more and more worried about the location of this tip as the family drove deeper and deeper into the forest. They would be away from communication! All forms of civilization would be lost! At least one thing was for sure, in the event of a zombie apocalypse they would be safe.

"This reminds me of that one movie." Mrs. Jones said thoughtfully. It was a well known fact that the young woman had seen just about every movie in existence, and her photographic memory caused her to remember almost every detail as well. Mrs. Jones was capable of reciting by heart all of Disney's Aladdin, songs and all.

"You mean that one with the ghosts and all that?" asked Mr. Jones, who was a bit of a movie whiz himself, and might have been nearly as impressive as his wife if it weren't for his chronic memory loss.

"Ghosts?" Alfred all but yelled, his eyes growing big as saucers. Mattie rolled his eyes in the seat beside him, a motion clearly expressing 'This again?'.

"Don't worry Alfred, ghosts only go for boys with blue eyes." Mrs. Jones said. "So Mattie is safe, although it is very sweet of you to worry about your little brother.

Mr. Jones and Mattie shared a look. Both wondering if Alfred would have such a consuming phobia if it weren't for his mother's blatant teasing. Maybe she was just trying to give him a few weaknesses. Otherwise his ego would inflate so big he would fly away, never to be seen or heard from again. And that really would be a tragedy, Mrs. Jones could never handle losing one of her babies.

"It really is a good thing though, that Mattie will be safe. I've heard Washington has the highest rate in the country of ghost related disappearances." she said slyly, trying to keep a straight face as Alfred sunk further into the back of his seat.

"You know." he muttered. "Mattie almost has blue eyes, I mean some might consider them blue right? Maybe we shouldn't go to this camp. Not that I'm scared of the ghosts or anything, I just want Mattie to be safe."

"Not to worry, ghosts will only go after the loud ones. They don't like to be disturbed, so talkative people really bug them." Mr. Jones said.

Alfred refused to utter another word for the rest of the drive. It must have been some sort of miracle.

When the car finally pulled up into a small dirt parking lot Alfred was forced to break his quiet spell so as to bid farewell to his parents.

"Now Alfred, being the oldest we're trusting you to take care of Mattie." Mr. Jones said, one of those statements that were sure to push Alfred's ego back to its former glory. Because fourteen minutes, seventeen seconds was a whole world of time.

"And if a dog is barking, and you don't know why, I would run away." Mrs. Jones said, making Alfred quake slightly in his boots."And Mattie, please make sure your brother wears something other than that dreadful bomber jacket." She waved disapprovingly at said disgraceful article of clothing.

"We love you both tons."

"Don't get into any fights Alfred."

"Try to make some friends Matthew."

"Try not to make too many friends Alfred."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"I'd be more worried about lice if I were you, lime disease is very nasty."

"Eat your vegetables."

"Get plenty of sleep."

"And make sure you take loads of photos for us."

The boys nodded in unison. The two adults helped their sons lift their luggage as they walked toward the camp entrance which consisted of a small wooden shack and a gate. It was not a beautiful sight.

"Hello, I'd like to check in my two boys, Alfred and Matthew Jones." Mrs. Jones said politely.

The man across the counter from her scowled. He had crude feature and a military haircut that caused Alfred to wish very much that they would never be required to interact with the man.

"Yeah, sure, you two come with me." he said, motioning the boys over to the gate. Mr. and Mrs. Jones transferred the rest of the bags over to their sons.

"We'll see you in a few months okay?" Mrs. Jones said, he voice breaking a bit as it did every year to be separated from her beloved children.

The four hugged, or Mrs. Jones hugged Alfred and Mattie while Mr. Jones saluted them, and the scowling man waited impatiently.

The two continued waving to their parents until the silver Subaru that was Mr. Jones' third child rolled out of view. Alfred turned to Mattie. "You ready for this?"

Mattie shrugged, but couldn't help smiling a little in return to his brother's huge grin.

"Hurry up already, you're already the last ones here." the crude man ordered. Mattie and Alfred quickly followed him as getting on his bad side did not seem the best course of action if they wanted to survive the summer.

They had to walk down a very cold path in the middle of the woods that was also very damp and muddy, all of this while lugging their heavy duffles and while rain dripped through their clothing. The stern man did not offer to help.

After what felt like forever a building came into view. It was tucked back into the trees, but thankfully was lit, so there had to be electricity, which meant heaters. They sped up their pace, for the first time pleasing their stoic companion.

Inside the building was a concrete floor, some random tables, and a bunch of teenage boys, lying every which way.

"Are these the last of them then?" A happy go lucky looking man in his late twenties asked the other man.

"Yes." he said simply.

"Good." the younger man said. "Then we can begin. Please sit down." He motioned Alfred and Mattie onto the hard floor. They both sat on their bags, as there was not actually a heater in this place and the ground was ice cold.

The army cut guy left, where to Alfred had no idea, and the smiley man walked to the front of the room. "Hello, my name is Mike." Mike went on to tell them his whole life story, the major points being that he grew up in Florida, and was twenty-seven. "We're going to have tons of fun this summer at Camp U.M.!"

Half the boys in the room groaned audibly.

"This is like, totally ridiculous." Alfred heard a boy sitting a few feet away from him whisper to someone. Was that boy wearing a skirt?

"I'm sure we'd all like to get to know each other, but for now you must all be tired." Finally he said something everyone agreed with. "So let's go over cabin assignments! At camp U.M. we divide into two groups, for games, competitions and stuff. This, where we are right now, is the main house where your concilors, like me, sleep. In that direction." he said, pointing out one wall. "Are the Allies. That way," he pointed opposite, "Are the Axis."

An Asian boy with short black hair raised his hand. "Sir, is there a reason we are using the names of either side in WWII?" He didn't seem to be the only one interested in this.

Mike laughed. "Because we're Camp U.M. of course!" he laughed, like that explained everything. "Anyway, let's get down to business, there are twenty-five of you, and twelve cabins. Not so may kids this year huh?" No one found this even remotely funny. "We'll have twelve in one group, thirteen in the other. Mostly it will be two to a cabin, but there will be a few triples."

He went down a list sorting us all into categories. To Alfred's great delight Mattie and him were put together in the Allies, but he was cabin #8 and Mattie was cabin #10. The boy who Alfred still swore was wearing a skirt also was put in their group with his little friend. The Asian boy who had spoken up was made an Axis.

Alfred was really very smart, he just didn't show it, and looking around he immediately realized how racist the sorting method was. There were kids from many different nationalities here, and they were all being sorted according to their countries allegiance in WWII. There had been nothing about this in the pamphlet!

"Okay everyone! Feel free to find your cabin and make yourself at home." Mike called.

Mattie and Alfred walked in the direction the Allies had been instructed toward.

All the cabins were pitifully small, and tucked back into the trees, one or two were actually in trees. It was like someone was trying to camouflage the place. Mattie left him to go find #10. Alfred was finding it difficult to locate his cabin. There was #7, and #9, where was eight? It took him about five minutes to finally see it, tucked back into a small hillock between cabins seven and nine. The little space looked as though it was just dug right into the hill in a manner that reminded him of those books by that fantasy freak guy. The ones with those short guys who had harry feet.

Alfred walked up to the door, which only confirmed his suspicions of the cabins roots when he found it circular, and stepped inside.

It really was very small. Just a small table, a set of shelves, and a bunk bed. His room mate had not yet arrived.

Alfred began to unpack his stuff, quickly designating which half of the shelf was his. It didn't seem all that different from the other cabins he'd been in, even if the outside was quite strange, Alfred analyzed. It was true that all the people working here seemed half insane if not more so, but most people working at camps in the middle of nowhere were.

The door opened. Alfred turned to look at his new roommate. He sort of froze up for some reason when he saw the boy, maybe it was those giant eyebrows, but they were locked in a red hot staring contest for almost a minute before the other boy broke his gaze.

"Hello." Alfred said, a little bit on the hyperactive spectrum.

"Um, it's a pleasure to meet you." the very British boy said, staring down his nose at Alfred in disdain. Was there something on his face? Alfred didn't think so, but he wiped it off with the sleeve of his bomber jacket just to be safe.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones! You're British aren't you? The accent kind of makes it obvious, but I could tell just by looking at those eyebrows!" Alfred said.

The British boy was visibly pissed off, the reason behind why Alfred had no idea. Did he still have something on his face? No, that couldn't be it."

"Arthur Kirkland. But I you may address me as Arthur." he said.

"That's cool! So I guess we're cabin mates, eh Artie?"

Arthur was fuming. "Don't call me that! And just for the record if you ever mention my eyebrows again I will rip that pretty face of yours rite off!"

Alfred stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded. Arthur humphed in approval, a small satisfactory smile now gracing his lips.

It disappeared a moment later, however, when Alfred burst out laughing. He was guffawing so hard he doubled over.

"What is so funny?" Arthur asked.

Alfred managed to right himself,breathing hard to avoid laughing more. There were tears in his eyes. "So." he said, grinning wider than the Nile. "You think my face is pretty?"

Now it was Arthur who was struck speechless. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but lost the chance to redeem himself when Alfred burst into laughter again. The British boy looked absolutely ridiculous when he was flustered.

Arthur tried to ignore the American boy currently rolling around on their floor as he inspected the bunk bed. "Okay." he said. "You want top or bottom?"

Alfred manged one disbelieving look at him before he was once more lost to his own cackles. Arthur was left analyzing what he had just said, a very dark blush coloring his cheeks. Alfred, of course, found this hilarious.

"I can already tell we're going to get along great!" The American said with a final laugh.

His logic was lost on Arthur.

**AN: For one thing, not all of the people on each team will be historically correct as I had to make the numbers even. Take comfort in this, according to Wikipedia they are. Also the major players are in the right places. Mike isn't a country, but if he were he'd more likely be a state, Florida in my mind. With the whole zombie apocalypse thing, American's are major conspiracy nuts, so I decided to make him one. I do realize Washingtonians are not hipsters, that was a random generalization brought to you by the same person who came up with this fic with me. Trust me, I have nothing against Washington, I myself am a Northern Oregonian with relatives in the big W. This is AN is now painfully long so,**

**RXR please?**

**Extra credit points for whoever can figure out what U.M. stands for. Hint- the second word is a misspelling, if it were spelled right the answer would be obvious.**

**U all SUK (hehehe so punny) over and out**


	2. Sleep deprivation and hidey holes

**AN: You guys are awesome! Eight reviews and only one chapter, I feel so special. I'll try to make this on even better for you. Have some Arthur P.O.V.!**

Arthur was having a very nice dream. He was sitting by a crystal lake, enjoying an impromptu discussion with Uni. They were sipping tea contentedly, relaxing in the cool breeze. The occasional sprite passed by, giggling and congratulating him on rescuing the fairy kingdom from its impending demise.

All was perfect, with not an American in sight.

"Mother Fucker!" His dream was sadly, and very abruptly ended as a resounding thwack accompanied his roommates curse. "Who the hell makes bunk beds this low? I mean, are they trying to give me a concussion?" Alfred had obviously never learned the value of 'shutting up for once and letting your cabin mate sleep'.

"Would you be quiet?" Arthur complained, just about ready to throttle the boy if he said one more word.

"Hi Artie! Didn't know you were awake too!" Alfred said happily.

"I wasn't, and I could be again if you would stop flinging yourself around like some sort of marionette!" Arthur growled. "And don't call me Artie!" he added for good measure.

"Come on, you're English, aren't you supposed to be polite or something?" Alfred asked.

Arthur berried his face as deep as possible into his pillow. If only he had something sharp... Or if he was only a bit stronger than the other boy, it wouldn't be so hard to smother him with his pillow. But that wouldn't do, it was his favorite pillow after all, and he had no others to use. He could always use Alfred's, but killing a man with his own pillow was down right shameful. He refused to stoop to that level.

Alfred wasn't just an annoying, painfully obnoxious, pitifully under-educated brat when he was trying to get some sleep. He also displayed these attributes while getting ready to sleep, while unpacking, and while petitioning for his locale on their bunk bed.

Arthur had never before met some one who actually wanted to sleep on the bottom bunk. It was usually a matter of whoever stepped down first/ whoever won at rock paper scissors/ the one with more muscles, who would end up on the bottom bunk. This usually-always- meant Arthur.

Alfred was different, not just in the fact that he had strange sleeping preferences. When the boy had finally stopped laughing Arthur was able to ask,

"Just shut up and tell me what part of the bed you want!"

After much more laughter, Arthur really had to watch his phrasing around this kid, he had finally gotten a straight answer out of the American.

"I'll take the bottom bunk."

"Really?"

"What, you really want your mind to be that available to them?" Alfred then pointed straight up at the ceiling.

"Fairies can't read minds." Arthur had objected.

"Fairies? What kind of a dork are you? I'm talking about aliens, not kids fantasy crap."

Arthur had then decided there was no getting a logical response out of him, and had given up.

Why couldn't they have given him a sane roommate? It didn't have to be someone he got along with perfectly, or even someone who would be friends with him. All Arthur wanted was someone who would shut the hell up for one second.

He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep due to the fact that when Alfred wasn't talking he was snoring insufferably, when the air horn that signaled a wake up call sounded from the main house.

"Yay! Time to get up Artie!" Alfred cried loudly, it was just plain unfair how much energy he had.

USUK

The Axis were not nearly as pleased as Alfred to be woken. That is, all of them but Feliciano, who couldn't help but squeal as he thought of the day ahead.

The younger Vargas was thrilled with the camp, or rather his new roommate. The boy may seem stoic and unfriendly to others, but Feliciano found him just about the most fascinating thing ever to walk the face of the Earth.

His grandpa owned the camp, so he and his brother had been coming there every year since he was, well he couldn't remember that. He loved to play with the other kids, even though he was only now old enough to participate in the main camp activity, the war game.

Every year it started out small, few knowing what any of it really was. It wasn't long, however, before everyone would be fully absorbed in the game. It was Axis vs. Allies, the Italian's favorite thing since pasta, falling above cats on his personal scale, but below his German roommate.

The camp started with your basic games, get to know you sort of silly stuff, that was fun, but that was not what camp was about. If Feliciano were a bit more tactical he might have been a major advantage to the Axis, as he had been in the enemy territory, new all the grounds by heart.

Sadly he tended to get lost, forget important details, not see importance in very important things, and thought spying was walking around in black, humming the theme to Mission Impossible at the top of his lungs.

When the air horn sounded he successfully managed to get knotted within his sheets in his desperation to get up.

When he finally manged to get the tangled bed covers off himself Feliciano sprung to his feet like a jack in the box.

"Ludwig! Ludwig! It's time to get up!" The Italian called happily, bouncing up and down on his heels.

"What? Oh, Ja, I'll be up in a minute." Ludwig said groggily as he sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He stepped slowly onto the wood cabin floor, wishing for just a few more hours of sleep. He turned in search of the exuberant Italian.

"I'm so excited! This year is going to be so much fun!" Feli squealed. He was literally standing on his bed, on the top bunk to be more specific, jumping up and down while the boards creaked in warning below him.

"Don't do that! You'll break that thing!" Ludwig cried.

Feliciano tilted his head to the side. "break it? But it is not supposed to break.

Ludwig face-palmed, "Maybe, but it is not meant to be abused so, get down before you kill yourself."

The boy jumped lightly onto the ground, a feet that should've broken every bone in his legs, but he someone managed to pull of unscathed.

The two got ready while Feliciano prattled on about how excited he was to be an Axis.

"It really is super fun! Everyone loves it here!"

Ludwig contemplated the boy. He knew the camp was owned by the Vargas family, but he had never considered that that would mean the young Italian would know just about everything there was to know about the place.

"Do you know why it is called U.M.?" Ludwig asked.

"Ve~ What do you mean?"

"Well, does it stand for something?"

"Oh!" the boy said, understanding flooding his face. "The United Mations of course. Don't tell me you've never heard of them."

Ludwig did not address this.

They left the cabin to where the other Axis were beginning to congregate.

"Hey! Your family owns this place right? Do you know what we're supposed to be doing?" a certain brother of Ludwig's called to Feliciano.

The boy was lounging, his arm thrown heavily around the shoulder of a very pissed of Austrian. While a small yellow canary sorted around in his pure white hair.

"Usually we have an hour before breakfast." Feliciano told him as the two approached.

"Why the hell is that?" the albino boy asked.

"That's just how it is!" Feli said brightly.

The other boy was about to retort again when Ludwig stopped him. "Just leave it Gilbert." he advised.

"This place fucking sucks. I don't understand why just because we're related to the bastard that owns this place we have to spend out entire fucking vacations here!" A boy too similar looking to Feliciano to be a coincidence, stated .

"Aw, Lovi, how can you not like Grandpa's camp?" Feliciano whined in genuine confusion.

"SO!" shouted Gilbert. "What are we going to do until breakfast?"

Feliciano clapped his hands together. "Ooh! Ooh! Let's play hide and go seek."

ten faces turned to stare at him. Of the other two one was sleeping and one was Ludwig, who was face-palming.

"Don't you think that game is a bit young?" asked the small Japanese boy.

"Nonsense, I think it would be very fun!" Cheered the one girl who mad the rest of them all feel awkward. Being a close personal friend of the Vargas' she had somehow managed to get into an all boys camp.

"But we don't even know each others names!" complained the pissed of Austrian.

"Well we'll just have to fix that then." declared a Spanish boy who was invading Lovino's personal bubble.

"Ve~! Okay, I am Feliciano Vargas!" Feli said happily.

"Ludwig Beilshcmidt."

"Gilbert Beilshcmidt for the win!" The albino boy cried enthusiastically.

"And I am Roderich Engelstein." The Austrian muttered.

"Lovino Vargas."

"It's Antonio, a pleasure to meet you all!" The Spanish boy said.

"I'm Kiku, and this is Heracles." The Japanese one said as he indicated his sleeping companion.

"I don't know if we can trust you with our names!" cried a boy with crazy blond hair as he covered his friends mouth to prevent speech.

The one girl grinned over wide at them all. "Elizaveta Hedevary! Oh, we're going to have so much fun."

Feliciano clapped happily, grinning at the girl.

"I'm Vasile Brockinsky." said a boy with such a heavy Romanian accent it was hard to understand a word he was saying.

The other boy with him sighed. "He's much easier to understand when he hasn't stayed up all night. I'm Danica Petrovic."

"So, now that we all know each other," Gilbert began. I nominate myself as 'it'. No one complained.

"Yay! Count a hundred!" Feliciano yelled.

"1...2...3.."

The Axis scattered every which way. Ludwig hadn't moved, so Feliciano grabbed his hand and yanked the larger boy away toward one of the cabins.

"I found this spot ages ago." The Feli said in a voice just above a whisper. "No one knows it's here but me."

He pointed out a small hole between the cabin bottom and ground. Ludwig eyed the spot wearily, but Feliciano did not wait for his approval before crawling inside. Not seeing an alternative, Ludwig followed.

It was a very tight squeeze, and he could feel his clothing getting covered in dirt. The space where Feliciano was curled up barely held them both, but allowed a fine vantage point of there camp without being easily seen. Ludwig had to admit, it was pretty ingenious hidey hole.

They watched as Gilbert ran around in search of the other Axis, a reluctant Roderich tailing behind.

They slowly found the others, but the crouching German and Italian eluded them. "Come one guys! Where are you?" Gil cried.

Feliciano amused himself by making incredibly accurate bird calls that just confused the others farther.

Eventually it was all too much for the two of them to handle and they both began to chuckle -well Ludwig chuckled, Feli guffawed- enough to alert Gilbert to their location.

"You guys!" Gil laughed. "That spot is awesome! How many do you know like it Feliciano?"

"Oh tons." Feliciano said happily. "On the Allies terrain too!"

They all grinned at this useful bit of info before continuing on to another round of hide and go seek.

USUK

Alfred found Arthur very hard to beat at Go Fish. He was like some sort of matching machine! The Englishman already had a pile of cards that dwarfed Alfred's pair or two.

"Um, you got any eights?" Alfred asked.

"No, go fish."

Alfred drew a card, disappointed to find it was a queen, not helpful.

"Do you have any queens?"

"How the... I just drew that card!" Alfred exclaimed.

"Hey! Allies!" called the unmistakeable voice of Mike from outside the cabins. "I have something for you.

The two went outside, where Mike was hefting a huge cardboard box, full of brightly colored fabric.

"These are your Camp U.M. uniforms. You will be required to wear them throughout the rest of the summer. Each of you will be issued to sets, we can wash them up at the big house.

He began handing out the garments. A boy with curlyish hair who was standing with Mattie let out a triumphant huzzah as he held up a brightly colored outfit, equipped with cape.

Arthur was issued the green British uniform of WWII, while Alfred's was an annoying tan. They went back inside to put on the offensive clothes.

Alfred groaned as he picked at the neutral tan over jacket that matched his uniform, it was terrible! "I am so not wearing this." he muttered.

One light bulb moment later and Alfred had replaced it with his magnificent bomber jacket.

He grinned as he inspected the newly renovated costume. It would do. He turned as to insult Arthur on his outfit, but upon seeing it all he could think was that the green really brought out his eyes.

**AN: I know, this chapter isn't great, and the grammar is terrible, but I really just wanted to introduce the Axis. All you who guessed it was the United Mations were right, although I think I made way to obvious. Thank you to all my reviewers, instead of responding to your reviews I am giving you this chapter. I may have misspelled some last names. Feel free to correct me. My updates will probably slow down, but I'll always publish at least once a week. **

**Thanks again, special XD's to The FAIO Liberation Front, or that friend who I keep talking about. You my super hero!**


	3. Five reasons why Russians are creepy

**AN: yes, I actually didn't give up on this story. And now I'm writing more. Hope it turns out okay XD**

To be honest, Arthur had cheated at Go Fish. Blame his Pixie friends, but knowing what cards the other player has is way easier when a little invisible flying thing keeps whispering them in your ear. He could also beat anyone in the world at poker. When his family had lived in England Arthur was always challenging his father's pub regulars. They stopped playing him on account that they were losing too much, but he could always beat the occasional new comer out of a few Euros.

Despite his 'mad skills' at all card games, Arthur was left defenseless when it came to clothing, or more particularly, uniforms. He knew they would have to go to breakfast any second, but that odd brown strap still lay sadly in his hands as he desperately attempted to solve the mystery of its use.

He lamely tried to clip it around his neck, but the strap was certainly too long... and it didn't fit around his knees either.

"What are you trying to do; tie yourself up?" Alfred half asked, half smirked.

"This blasted strap! It would take a bloody genius to figure out how it works."

Alfred raised his eyebrows.

On inspecting the American's uniform closer Arthur felt his heart sink. A long brown strap, far to similar to his own, had managed to fit simply over the other boy's shoulder and clip into his belt.

"So I'm a bloody genius then? Strange, I didn't think I had any cuts." Alfred said.

"Oh shut up and help me with this." Arthur groaned.

To his great happiness the blonde pushed it no further. He did, however, snatch the strap away from him.

He undid the clasp on the straps end, Arthur had no idea how he had missed it, and fastened it to Arthur's belt.

"Uh, thanks, I think I can finish..." Arthur muttered awkwardly.

For some reason Alfred looked bemused. "Go crazy." He said, stepping away from the Brit.

Somewhat surprised Arthur undid the other clasp. He hadn't expected the American to step down so easily.

Five minutes later as Arthur struggled to reach behind him, unable to fasten a buckle that was unfortunately at the center of his back, a buckle that seemed much more complicated than the one in the front had been, Alfred's motives became clear.

"How in bloody hell did you manage to get this thing on yourself?" Arthur raged, slightly past the brink of being furious.

"The American genius over here buckled it in BEFORE I put my belt on." Alfred said, grinning madly. "You know you could just let me help you."

"No way wanker!" Arthur yelled, sounding much more childish than he'd of liked to admit.

Five more minutes into the future Arthur hung his head and gave up, the strap falling lamely to his side.

Alfred took that as an invitation to assist. Arthur was to deep in depression land to noticed Alfred walk up to him and pull the strap over his shoulder.

"You know," Alfred half whispered, as his was now directly behind the short Englishman. "I don't see what was so hard about fastening a little buckle."

"Hey! It's practically impossible to tie up something that complex without eyes in the back of your head." Arthur half heartedly whined, but he was a bit too scared to move to be any more aggressive.

"You nag enough I'm surprised you don't." Alfred murmured, not factoring in that Arthur was close enough to hear him.

"Bloody wanker!" Arthur cried, forgetting, momentarily, that Alfred was still holding onto the back of his uniform. He flailed, and stamped on Alfred's foot. Alfred cursed nastily, hurting the poor proper boys ears, and lost his balance.

The two boys toppled and collapsed, flambouyantly onto the ground. Arthur tried desperately to separate himself from the American, but unfortunately, he took a moment too long.

"Arthur! Comment pourriez-vous faire cela à mon pauvre cœur?" cried a very loud, very French voice from the cabins door.

Arthur froze, allowing Alfred to scuttle away, and right himself.

"No! What has happened to him?" The French voice wailed. "Don't leave me Arthur! Oh, I fear he has already departed to the next life. Alas, Mattie, you are all I have left now."

Alfred had been just staring at the man in his bright caped uniform-he remembered him from earlier- until he mentioned Mattie. Only then did he notice the boy standing just behind there other arrival, still clutching his bear.

"Hang on a minute! You'd better stay away from my brother Frenchy!" Alfred cried.

"Oh, wee American, you cannot control the heart of your brother. You really shouldn't deny the young, ignorant boy my sexy charm."

Arthur wondered why Francis was purposefully pissing off Alfred, and not hitting on him as he did just about everyone else. He both hit on and pissed off Arthur, often simultaneously.

Also, Alfred could beat the hell out of Francis in any fight, so making him mad was not going to work in Francis' favor.

"We were coming to get you for breakfast." Mattie muttered.

Francis suddenly ignored Alfred and glomped the little Alfred look a like. "Oh you're just so cute! Aren't you just adorable little Mattie, just adorable!" he squealed.

"Take your hands off my brother!" Alfred yelled, and ran at Francis.

Arthur winced as his legs were tripped over, and then collapsed upon. For once he actually felt sorry for the obnoxious American.

Francis seized the moment and took off, a rather disgruntled Mattie tucked under one arm.

"That asshole!" Alfred shouted, and he stood up. He seemed to be choosing whether to chase after the Frenchman or just give it up.

"I wouldn't go after him, he'll just run away again if you do, and then it's unlikely you'll ever see your brother again."

"So you know that jerk?" Alfred asked.

"Yeah," Arthur muttered. "We grew up together, and trust me, he's not a fun kid to grow up with."

"I can imagine." Alfred sighed.

"Filthy Frog."

They both stared into space for a long moment. "Breakfast?" Alfred asked, extending a hand.

Arthur grabbed it, allowing the American to haul him to his feet.

USUK

Ivan liked the camp. He liked the stories he'd heard about the war game. He liked that no one minded him carrying a bottle of vodka around as long as he pretended it was pop. Yes, he liked U.M. very much, and most of all he liked his cabin mate.

#1 reason Ivan Braginski liked Wang Yao, he wasn't afraid of the Russian. And as much as Ivan liked to be feared it was more fun to beat that fear into someone, rather than have them already cower in terror, too weak minded to even speak with him.

#2, Natalia wouldn't like him. Maybe when he went back home he could tell her stories of his little Chinese friend, and then she would be too busy sulking to follow him around anymore.

#3, he looked like a girl, and Ivan liked girls. Not that Ivan didn't like boys, he very much liked girly boys. And Yao was a very girly boy.

#4, He was a Communist, like Ivan, Ivan liked Communist's.

#5, he had washed his scarf for him when it had gotten muddy. Now it was all nice and clean, and white. Like the snow back home. Ivan liked snow. Ivan liked Yao.

USUK

It was the strangest breakfast Ludwig had ever attended. Most of the campers hadn't eaten dinner the night before and were madly hungry, stuffing anything and everything down their throats. Some ate so quickly their forks (or hands) were a blur eating absolutely all the food in a five foot radius. And when that was complete they went for more. This food, however, was not put in mouths, but began the greatest Camp U.M. food fight in history.

Feliciano had told him about the war game, but anything more intense than this great Axis vs. Allies bacon and biscuit battle was impossible to comprehend.

At the time he had thought the hyper Italian was just exaggerating as usual, but now...

"Ludwig look out!" Feli cried as a large fried egg plastered the dumbfounded German in the face. He was temporarily blinded, liquid yoke trailing down his chin. Oh that was so it.

"Gilbert!" Ludwig yelled at his brother, who was currently captain of team Axis.

"Yes?" Gil called back as he bombarded the Allies with well buttered toast.

"Stop throwing fucking toast you dumbkopff!" he shouted. Gilbert didn't seem to hear him.

No one seemed to hear Ludwig as he yelled at everyone to cut it out, or, more likely, they just didn't care.

The Allies food fighting team seemed to be led by an American with strange hair (not nearly as strange as Feliciano or Lovino's though) and a small, girly Chinese boy. They were also too involved, ad well as being too far away, to listen to a thing Ludwig was saying.

Ludwig gave up his attempts, and finished wiping egg whites off his face. This was a very strange camp to say the least. He had only come because Gil had wanted to keep stalking the prissy Austrian, who was attending not because he wanted to leave his overly posh home, but because the Vargas' were his cousins, and he was in charge of making sure they didn't get themselves killed.

That duty seemed to have been dumped on Ludwig. Not that he blamed Roderich, he already had Gil to deal with, and how he even managed that was beyond the German boy.

The fight came to a sudden hault as a very loud clang rang out, and the valiant leader of Team Axis crumpled from his throne atop the picnic tables. Gilbert Beilschmidt cried out one last battle cry, before his head was smashed once more by the reliable frying pan of Elizaveta.

"Act your age stupid, filthy German!" she said to his crumpled form, not really yelling, more chastising loudly.

"I'm Prussian." Gil moaned.

Another smash. "Shut it!"

"Roderich!" Gil wailed. The frying pan came down again. "Roddie, tell our children..." Smash "... tell them I went out fighting."

The pan came down again with unmistakeable brutality, and Gil finally was finally unconscious.

Elizaveta did a little dance.

On one side of Ludwig, Roderich buried his head in his hands and groaned. Ludwig patted him on the back. Poor guy, no one should have to deal with that.

USUK

When the crazy Hungarian finally managed to shut up the albino kid, Arthur was very happy. For one thing it put an end to the terrible waste of food, as well as getting Alfred to stop using him as a human shield against the bombardment of breakfast meats.

What sane sixteen year old boys engage in food fights? The only good that had come of the ruined breakfast was that it stopped Alfred's eating. The American was one roll away from either choking, or keeling over purely from gluttony.

At least they hadn't been throwing scones. Arthur couldn't handle scone abuse.

USUK

Five things Wang Yao dislikes about Ivan Braginski

#1, Yao doesn't like to be intimidated. Ivan is intimidating.

#2, Russian's are creepy

#3, The way he looks at Yao is just weird, like he wants to kill him and then rape his remains.

#4, It wasn't unlikely that Ivan would kill him and rape his remains.

#5, He was too nice to Yao. If Yao had learned anything from Asian Dramas it was that if they act nice they're really trying to kill you.

One thing Wang Yao likes about Ivan Braginski

He's a Communist. Yao likes Communists.

**AN: Sorry that was so short, I cranked it out as fast as I could. I'll try to actually do regular updates from now on (like once a week). Please RXR, your reviews are what get me writing more. Oh and I used google translate for the French XD he said, How could you do this to my poor heart? I know my Rochu was kind of random, but it was necessary. **

**Love you all~**

**e.e.m**


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